


#2 - Human Furniture: Rocket's Favorite Seat

by fallenfromluster



Series: Roquill Kinktober 2017 [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Quill, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gags, Human Furniture, M/M, Top Rocket Raccoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 22:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12518024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenfromluster/pseuds/fallenfromluster
Summary: Peter agrees to try out one of Rocket's kinks while he assembles a plasma carbine.Peter was shaking within thirty seconds and dripping onto the lab floor. Rocket smirked and said, “Never had a chair that made a mess when I played with it. Must be something wrong.”





	#2 - Human Furniture: Rocket's Favorite Seat

“Quit moving, loser.” Rocket really didn’t mean it anymore, and, if he was honest, he really hadn’t meant it after the Kyln or especially after they’d held the Stone together. But it just felt natural now, especially since Pete had agreed to this. He’d seen the holos, like a lot of holos, of a guy bound and gagged—on a bed, on all fours, stuffed in a closet—it didn’t matter; Rocket thought it was hot. The dude was there for someone else’s pleasure, ready and wanting. And he moaned all pretty like, writhing against the bonds, always hard. Yeah, he felt fucked up for liking this after all that Halfworld had done to him, but Peter had agreed to this, and here he was sitting on top of the humie as he assembled the new plasma carbine he’d ‘bought’ on Bremnar station. His boyfriend had scowled at him when he’d made off with the parts, but Rocket was used to that and knew that all he had to do was swish his tail along Peter’s calves to get him to relax. That was the thing with humies was that they were so easy to predict: pupils dilated, heart rate elevated, dick hard. Yeah, Rocket had Pete figured out.

The assembly was going well. The synchrotron ring had fully integrated and he could feel the hum as he pushed the injector into the particle window. He smirked at the thought of the damage this would do—broken bodies and shattered walls—yeah he was fucked up. “Oh well,” he muttered and grabbed the wrench. He still couldn’t believe that Peter had agreed to this. The conversation hadn’t been as awkward as he’d anticipated, but then again Pete was all, ‘Let’s be open about our desires,’ and, ‘Just talk to me, Rocky.’ Probably a good thing, but he wasn’t about to say that to the humie, even if he was the sweetest dude he’d ever done seven hundred jumps for. He’d spent forty-seven minutes assembling the carbine, forty-seven minutes on Peter’s naked back. Rocket would have stopped after he'd put in the electron lenses—the alignment would be a bitch—but when he’d stepped off to get the multimeter he’d noticed Peter was still hard as a rock and dripping. So instead he padded away to ‘look down the sight’ and not so secretly ogle his boyfriend’s crouched form. Pete was almost all muscle and handsome to boot. Rocket still wasn’t quite sure how he’d pulled this heist off, and in that moment, he knew that he had to break character.

He padded over to his boyfriend, covered in sweat and on all fours—Rocket felt his erection throb in his orange jump suit—then removed the ball gag. “Baby Boo, you okay?”

A few strands of drool escaped and dripped onto the metal floor with gag removed, and then Peter looked up into the face of his boyfriend and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good. Knees are fine, and this is pretty hot. Good core workout too, Rocky. Have to keep my abs in top shape for my space boyfriend.” Rocket rolled his eyes. Of course, Peter would find a way to make this weird. “You’re going to fuck me, right?”

Rocket huffed then put his hand under Peter’s jaw, drawing it up until their eyes met, blue against brown. “Yeah. You’re my boyfriend, ‘course I’m doing that tonight.” Rocket paused for a few moments, just running his fingers through Peter’s hair, before asking. “Would you mind if I spent another half hour on this carbine?”

Peter laughed, before responding, “Sure, you’re going to have to be gentle after all this.” Rocket’s mind raced for a few seconds. Maybe Peter really was hurting, and just didn’t want to tell him, because he didn’t want to make him feel bad. Which would be terrible, and—Peter interrupted Rocket’s runaway thoughts with, “Not too gentle though. I like it when you get a little wild,” followed by a wink.

“Sure,” Rocket muttered, “Open up.” Peter obediently opened his mouth and Rocket felt another twitch in his jump suit, before inserting the ball gag, before climbing onto Peter’s back with the carbine. He had a goal now: Peter’s ass and fucking his boyfriend’s brain’s out. There were twenty-seven electrostatic lenses in the rifle and thirteen that required quadrupole manipulation. Still, Rocket finished in twenty-three minutes. It’d need more adjustments for long range accuracy and maximum power—Rocket estimated it was only operating at seventy-nine percent. The rifle was beautiful emitting a purple glow out of its manifolds and just begging him to pull the trigger. It was so fucking hot, he just wanted to—No Peter was there. It was time.

Rocket hopped off his boyfriend’s back and knelt next to Peter’s head. “Hey, the rifle is done. Want to see it?” His boyfriend nodded, and Rocket shoved the rifle into Peter’s face. His eyes seemed to widen at the sight of the purple light and the long, obsidian-black barrel. Probably didn’t turn the humie on as much as it did, Rocket, but by the muffled words, “Ugh ob ocket,” he knew that Peter was impressed.

Rocket pressed one finger to Peter’s gagged mouth and said, “Don’t think furniture can talk. Now be a good seat while I get you ready.” He walked around to Peter’s rear and examined the plug that he’d inserted at the beginning of the session. He’d made it himself in the Milano’s printer earlier that year, and it was just big enough that there would still be a bit of a stretch as Rocket sunk in. He’d wanted to make it bigger, but Peter had insisted that “part of the fun is a little burn.” Whatever, the dude obviously had issues. Rocket grabbed onto the rim of the plug and gave an experimental tug. Peter moaned, but it didn’t really move—he should have expected his boyfriend would have tightened up over the last hour and a half—so he started to work it in and out, each tug drawing it out a little further until with a satisfying pop he dragged it all the way out. He tossed the plug over his shoulder, not caring where it landed as he watched the winking ring of muscle. Yeah, Pete was wide open. He didn’t really need to finger his boyfriend, but it was so fun making the humie squirm when his fingers ran over the prostate, so he inserted two fingers and started the massage.

Peter was shaking within thirty seconds and dripping onto the lab floor. Rocket smirked and said, “Never had a chair that made a mess when I played with it. Must be something wrong.” Peter let out a moan and tried to push back against the exploring hand. Rocket indulged him for a minute, working his finger’s in and out of the loose hole, enjoying the sensation of warm, silky walls. And suddenly it was too much—Peter’s  moans, the sensations on his hand, the growing wet spot on his jumpsuit—he needed to fuck, no hear Peter’s voice and fuck. That was what was missing. As much as he hated to admit it, half the fun was listening to the idiot talk to him during sex. “Hey Pete, could you, uh, take out the gag?” Then in a smaller voice, “I need to hear you.”

Peter didn’t stop his rocking against Rocket while he brought one hand up to undo the snaps around the back of his head, letting the ball gag fall to the floor with a wet plop. He panted for a few seconds before letting out a tired, “Hey, happy to do it, Ranger.”

“Thanks, Baby Boo. You ready now?”

“Of course! Always want you.” Peter had pointed out before that while Rocket really couldn’t ‘blush’ his whiskers twitched when he got compliments like this, and right now, they were twitching like crazy. Well fuck, if his boyfriend wanted it this much, he’d give it to him. He pulled the zipper down his jumpsuit until his dick flopped out and hit Peter’s crack with a heavy thud. Fortunately, at this point in their relationship, he’d started stashing lube everywhere, including under his work bench, so he didn’t have to search around for long. After pouring a generous amount over his dick and Peter’s hole he lined up and started pressing in. It was always a bit slow as the head passed the rim, and then a sudden slide in. He knew that Peter could take the entire length in one go, but it was more fun to go in half way, and drag the full penetration out across thrust after thrust; it got the big guy more desperate this way. On the second thrust, Rocket aimed down a bit, hitting Peter’s prostate. He’d gotten pretty slick with humie anatomy, and knew how to make Peter moan. After all, he was sweet on the guy like that. With each thrust, Rocket made sure to drag his dick back over the same spot while drilling deeper and deeper, until his hips were slamming against Peter’s ass with each thrust.

It was too good. Each thrust put friction along his dick in all the right places, and after all the gun assembly he was on a hair trigger, so he slowed and then just collapsed on Peter, still buried halfway into him. “Hey, I’m super close. Need a break.” Rocket collapsed onto Peter’s back and just rubbed his face on the muscles, breathing in the smell of sweat.

“Gun got you too worked up, didn’t it?” Fuck, how had he let Peter get to know him so well. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He thought he’d stay aloof his whole life, and then there this humie who could tell what he was thinking just by the dick stuck in his ass. Not that Rocket could really complain, or wanted to. “Why don’t you make this quick?” Peter said, before blurting out, “Want to hold you after being stuck on the ground so long.”

Rocket reached around and grabbed Peter’s hard cock, then started to thrust again. Each thrust drew his hand along the length and soon he had his boyfriend moaning again. The minutes flowed like water with Rocket licking along Peter’s back and trying to drive each thrust as deep as possible. Sometimes he didn’t quite manage to jerk Peter right, and he had to make up for it with a few quick tugs, but both were close and just wanted to just let loose. Peter came first. Rocket could feel his cock throb as shot after shot of semen hit the floor, which was enough for him to unload, pumping Peter full. It probably didn’t take more than a few minutes, but he was exhausted and just stood there half in, half out, dazed. Yeah, this was the life.

Then suddenly Peter jerked forward off Rocket’s cock and stood up. He didn’t have time to react before Peter’s arms were around him and pulling him up and into an awkward hug. He let out a huff as Peter rubbed his face across Rocket’s black and white fur, and buried his head against the neck “Happy now?” To be honest the hug felt amazing, but just saying that wasn’t really Rocket’s style, so he started running his hands through Peter’s hair.

Peter chuckled, and said, “Told you I wanted to hold you. Should have been prepared.” He took a few steps toward the door. “Let’s get a shower. Who knows what I touched in your lab. Probably have antimatter on my hands.”

Rocket’s face scrunched up and he rolled his eyes. “Anti-matter doesn’t work that way, idiot. You wouldn’t even have hands.”

Peter let go off Rocket with one arm, then ran a hand down his face, before letting out an exasperated, “That’s the joke, stupid. I’m going to spend a life time teaching you some humor, aren’t I.” By that time, they’d reached the door, he went for the control panel, before Rocket squirmed out of his grasp and dropped to the ground.

“Pete, you better put your pants back on. Gamora wasn’t too happy last time.” Yeah, that had been awkward. He’d walked out of the lab with his jumpsuit on and Peter had followed him without a stitch of clothing on. Still he hadn’t minded too much that he got to look the dumb humie up and down a few more times while he searched for his pants. Those abs, the v-line, the thighs—fuck, he was getting hard again. Rocket quickly zipped up his jumpsuit before he got too hard, before joining Peter by the door again, this time wearing pants. Yeah, this was the good life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you liked and what you didn't like in the comments! I'm still trying to figure out this whole writing thing, so I would very much appreciate any constructive criticism. Writing smut is is challenging, and I've gained a new appreciation for the authors who are really good at writing it. Next up is #3 Strength kink. Please be patient for the rest of Kinktober, which is quickly turning into Kinkember.


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